The Glass of Sherry
by Amazonian21
Summary: A reworking of a famous tale of vengence. In response to a challenge. COMPLETE.


Okay, here is a little fic that I wrote in one sitting. I responded to a challenge put forth by my compatriot Jade, whom you can read on this site under the name of **Jade4**. Check out her stories- they're really good. She's won awards. Anyway, here are the guidelines to the challenge:

"SO FAR TO FALL" CHALLENGE

You have to do one (or more) of the following (To Jareth):

Kill him

Take his magic away permanently

Make him lose his throne

Have him end up being just a figment of Sarah's warped imagination after all.

Render him impotent in some other way.

I plinked out this little tidbit. It should look familiar to you. I modeled it heavily after Poe's "The Cask of Amontillado". If imitation's the sincerest form of flattery, allow me to extend my admiration, Mr. Poe.

If you decide to take this challenge leave me a note in the reviews and I'll go on over and read it. I find this particular challenge interesting, especially given the weird mood I've been in lately. This story's dedicated to the wonderful people who review my works, especially **Mab****, Queen of Faerie,** since she's been a constant and very kind.

**Boogity****.******

The Glass of Sherry.

The thousand injuries of Jareth I have borne as best I could, but when he ventured upon insult I vowed revenge. Those who know me well know that I do not do anything lightly or rashly, at least not anymore. No, my carelessness and my impulsiveness were snatched away from me in the same moments that my innocence and my childhood were taken.

And Jareth was the man responsible for their loss.

My vengeance would not be the product of passion. There would be no fire in my actions, no electricity that would raise the hairs on his neck and alert him to the fact that something was seriously wrong.

I would be prepared. All details would be secure. And there would be no suspicion; no clue would linger to give those around us any reason to question his absence. They would certainly never go looking for him.

For months in advance I prepared the castle. I planted my seeds of doubt and worry. I whispered poison and sowed dissention, I sat back and watched as everything began to go exactly to plan.

"Suzy," I'd whispered, catching the arm of the castle's most gossipy servant as she bustled down the hall, "have you noticed anything… unusual about the Master lately?" There hadn't been anything about his behavior that was out of the ordinary, but my asking would definitely cause her to create something.

She wrinkled her forehead in concentration. The poor, simple girl. After much thought she replied, "No, Mistress, I haven't seen anything."

"Oh," I said, dropping her arm and shooing her away with my hands, "I'm sure it's nothing. I must be imagining things, that's all."

I watched Suzy scurry away, straight to the kitchen, gossip central of the castle. There she would breathlessly relate my query to all the staff and then speculation would ensue. Soon someone would 'remember' something, and it would all work against the King.

More and more I leaked toxic fumes to infect those around us.

"Suzy, did you pack the master's trunks? He hasn't told me of any plans for a vacation, and I'm wondering why he looks as though he's preparing for a trip?"

"Suzy, do you know anything about these strange correspondences of the King? Who does he write to so frequently? You must know, he won't tell me."

"Suzy, I know you do the King's laundry. Whose lipstick is that I've seen on his collar? Answer me, don't feign ignorance! There's something afoot here, I know it!"

Soon every exchange held between the two of us was closely monitored by hundreds of nearly unseen eyes. In our conversations I was always the wronged Queen, the silently suffering betrayed woman. My provoking remarks were cleverly disguised and the King's answering anger was always deemed undeserved and suspicious.

One night I was particularly vexing. I knew the King had an important counsel to attend the next evening. I quietly begged him to stay at home so he could cater to me. I asked for a romantic evening, one of massages and candlelight. The servants whispered amongst themselves, "Poor Queen. She's trying to win back her King."

When he refused I became petulant. I bullied and was belligerent, I whined and pleaded. In a fit of anger and exasperation the King yelled, "That's enough! I will not stay here with you! I am leaving tomorrow night, and that's the end of it." All was ready.

The next day I dismissed all the servants. They had heard what they needed to hear. I gave them the day off, saying that the Master and I needed absolute solitude in order to work things out. I put up wards to keep them away. When Jareth awoke that morning we were completely alone.

"My love," I said, snuggling close to his side, "I'm sorry for the way I behaved earlier. I was unreasonable."

"No, no, don't apologize, I can understand your desire to keep me close," He said, eternally arrogant and woefully unaware.

"Ha ha," I said, faking a giggle, "you're insufferable." It was difficult not to let the truth seep into that statement.

"I have plans for the morning that will make up for it," I continued, leaning up to capture his lips in a Judas kiss.

"Oh?" he said, and his eyes glittered mischievously. He began to caress my back and sides slowly. I repressed a shudder and kissed him again.

"These plans include a fieldtrip," I said, laughing as I stood and pulled him up after me. When he grumbled and tried to balk I laughed.

"Don't worry," I said soothingly, "I brought refreshments."

I held up a bottle of sherry, liquor that Jareth was extremely fond of.

"My Dove," he said, chuckling as he took the bottle from my hand, "isn't it a bit early for this?"

"Well, I figured that we could get smashingly drunk on this now, get a little crazy, and you would have time to sober up in order to leave for your counsel tonight. You know you don't stay intoxicated for very long- not half as long as I do!"

He considered this and considered my pouting lips before he gave in. "You win, as always, my lady." Oh, not always, my King, but today, oh yes. Today.

I giggled again, an obnoxious noise that he nevertheless loved, and dragged him playfully behind me. I reached for the two goblets I'd set out the night before, the same ones we'd drunk from at our wedding. Mine was silver and intricately carved. His was gold and intricately poisoned.

Oh, he was immortal. There was little that any poison could do to him. The most potent would only slow him down a little, weaken him a little, impair his judgment a little, much along the lines of extreme intoxication. I had the strongest poison available now lining his glass. Odorless, tasteless, painless.

I filled our glasses and handed him his. I raised my own into the air and said, "Here's to your life. May it be long indeed."

He clinked the glasses together and returned, "Here's to your life. May it be filled with all you desire." Yes, my King, it would be. I watched with satisfaction as he drained his glass before I drained my own.

"Now," I said, allowing my voice to drop to a seductive register, "let us go see about the other half of my surprise."

Jareth, swaying a little on his feet from the effects of the poison, didn't notice as I once again refilled his glass. He drank that one down quickly before turning at my words.

"What has my minx planned?" he slurred, running his clumsy paw across my cheek.

"A little erotic fun down in the catacombs," I replied huskily, taking one of his earlobes into my mouth and sucking lightly.

He laughed a throaty chuckle and leant into me.

"By all means," he whispered, "lead the way."

Jareth followed me faithfully as I took him down the stairs from our room. I led him through the grand hall and passed all the beautiful places in the castle, places that no longer held any charm for me. I led him past the treacherous ballroom filled with lies and deceit. I led him through the kitchens on the ground floor, passed the wine cellars, and down into the dank recesses of the castle where nothing resided but the ancestral remains of thousands before us.

Jareth was having a little difficulty walking. He had consumed the whole bottle of sherry, in addition to a second one I'd picked up while passing through the kitchen. The poison can make one very thirsty.

"What's taking so bloody long?" he muttered as we descended our third flight of stairs. We would soon be so far down that no amount of screaming would ever reach the ears of those above us.

"Don't worry, love," I let out, keeping my tones light and playful as we walked. "We'll soon be there, and then you'll get the surprise of your lifetime." He muttered a little more, but continued to follow me.

"Jareth," I said playfully, as we walked down yet another flight of stairs, "do you remember that time you sent me to the oubliette for a week when we argued three years ago? Wasn't I just a silly goose for being so afraid of those rats that shared space with me?"

He chuckled in agreement and I continued. "And that time that you removed all my clothing from the castle so that I had to walk about in servant's attire because I had 'defied' you over a trifling matter? Didn't that maid's uniform arouse you?"

Jareth laughed in agreement and pulled me in closer to nuzzle my neck. He didn't notice how stiff my shoulders had become.

"Oh no, not here," I said, gently pushing him away. "We're almost there. Right around this corner."

We rounded it and saw a deep alcove. It was immersed in shadows so dark that it was impossible to see the back wall.

I went ahead and stepped into the darkness. I motioned for Jareth to follow.

He did, cautiously creeping up to the line that separated light from impenetrable darkness.

As soon as he crossed that line I fastened the shackles to his wrists, over his gloves. Before he was able to react I soon had his ankles as well.

He struggled a bit, not fully comprehending the danger of his situation. It wasn't until I placed the third shackle around his neck, with metal touching skin, that he was jolted into awareness.

"Sarah," he gasped, desperately trying to reach his arms up to pull at his bindings, "this is…" He wasn't able to finish as pain wracked his body.

"Iron?" I supplied helpfully, watching in amusement as panic flickered across the King's usually arrogant features. "Yes, I know."

I stood away from him and walked over to the right of the alcove's entrance. There I found what I'd so carefully planted here last night when everyone slept. A bucket of cement still wet enough for my purposes. I picked up a few bricks from the pile that lay next to the entrance and casually chatted with my lover.

"Iron. Strange metal, isn't it? Won't kill you unless it enters your body. But if you're near it for any length of time it cripples you and removes all your power. I've heard it's quite painful."

"Sarah," he pleaded, "remove this from me. Your game is over. This goes too far."

He still didn't understand.

"Too far, Jareth?" I hissed, releasing control for just a moment, "you presume to tell _me_ about too far?!" I quickly composed myself as I watched him moan and sink down from the pain of the iron. His power, what was left over after the poison, was quickly disappearing in the metal's presence.

I began to lay down a layer of cement. When that was finished I added my first row of bricks. Seeing it all lain out gave me courage.

Meanwhile I began a conversation.

"Jareth, do you remember three months ago when you held the counsel here in our castle? There were thirty men present, warlords and uncouth personalities, all drunk and all rowdy. Someone, I recall, started a boasting contest. All wanted to prove that they had the most beautiful wife or mistress."

I was past my third row. It was a sloppy job, but the cement would hold. This wall didn't have to support a castle, it just had to hide what I wanted away from my sight.

Jareth shifted, but stubbornly remained silent.

"Oh come now, Jareth, surely you remember. Well, in any case, the night ended with you declaring your bride to be the most beautiful of all. When there were cries of, 'Prove it!' you obliged. You transported me to the center of the throne room, in the midst of all those leering men, naked. You turned me into a tragic Helen, shamed before all of Sparta. You immobilized me so that I was unable to cover my mortification. You spun me around so that all eyes could violate me. Yes, they agreed, you had the most beautiful wife."

Jareth remained silent and I reached the sixth level. The bricks were chest height.

I stood and peered into the alcove. At the sight of me Jareth leapt to his feet and strained furiously against the chains. I jumped back, startled and fearful until I saw that I had measured the chains well. There were seven inches between Jareth and the wall, seven inches that he would never breech.

As I continued my work upon the seventh, eighth, and ninth rows, Jareth began to scream. He yelled and he rattled his chains and made the most noise possible.

I glanced around me in fear until I remembered our location. There was no one in the castle to hear, even if our depths hadn't prevented them. Soon I raised my voice in mocking shrieks and yells, screaming so loudly that I surpassed him in volume. Presently he fell silent and I heard him slump limply to the ground.

I worked again on the wall. I had reached the tenth and final row. I put all bricks into place save one. The hole in the wall allowed for a patch of light to fall in to the prisoner.

As I lifted the last brick into place I heard a sad voice laughing. "Ha! Ha! Ha!" he said weakly, "very good joke, Sarah, but it's gone far enough. You'll take down that wall now and we'll go back upstairs."

"We'll go upstairs for the erotic morning?"

"Yes!" he said, eagerly, and I heard the chains rattle once more. "Let us be gone!"

"Yes," I repeated somberly, "let us be gone."

"_For the love of God, Sarah_!"

"Yes," I said passionately, "for the love of God!"

There was silence from within. I pushed the last brick firmly into place and secured it. I then piled rocks and rubble in front of the wall until it resembled any other.

"Here's to a long life, Your Majesty!" I saluted, and took a swig from the sherry bottle. With that, I returned to the castle, prepared to play the part of betrayed wife.


End file.
